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The biggest cut log around here, right around Halloween, is shaped like a Tootsie Roll (remember those?) and has a hole in the middle worthy of being filled with pints of creme. It is the top of the pile, pick of the litter, and by comparison TP’ing pales. (But more, as in what costumes and other late decorations showed, and what didn’t … I’ll hit this description right after elections, as I first want to ascertain if any Trump masks still show up and provide the of-course silly commentary on their ‘positions.’

Up the way from our house is another guy who really needed to get the log jam in his backyard cleared out — and then fall came! And started ebbing. So there soon were about a hundred pieces of cut word placed up front for sale, and the biggest one at the top featured a uniform four-inch round hole, like the double-part shape of so many single candies with really cool-as-the-season gooey stuff, stuffed into the middle. This hole could also be seen as a size that would fit a roll of toilet paper — not the fat primo kind — but am I the only one who has noticed, nobody TPs any more; it seems to have gone out of style, or limited by the virus. Dare I say, Killing Us Softly?
Just throwing this into the kitty … Referenced on social media a day or two before Halloween and on, was a cat that’s been seen that is “black and white. Really.” I get the irony of a black cat, but … black … is that unusual for the 31st? The regional chapter of the satanic marketing committee says that this theme runs through 55 percent of the time. Just kidding, they disbanded 2,000 years ago. And white tends to cancel black anyway, so no harm done. Yet another heavy metal aside, the late great Ronnie James Dio made a career with lyrics about The Black And The White, The Dark And The Light, The Good And The Evil. And one more aside, his in-concert video to support his Sacred Heart CD — you get the literally bleeding messiah heart I presume — was played in a way that took over from sports bar TV at the iconic Dibbo’s rock club all through a Halloween past. Made my holiday. If only Ronnie could wield a sword better, being short in stature, when literally slaying a dragon at the back of the huge stage. Maybe should bring in some of your old Black Sabbath bandmates, the more burly ones, to do more than just Forget All That Macho Shit And Learn How To Play Guitar. (Sang John Cougar, and that name is not just his Halloween costume).
Where Do We Go Now, Where Do We Go … Right now, with social distancing and all, even if a costumed centipede stuck to themselve(s), and wanted to dance the night away, they would be in violation. But there is a place you still can get your groove on, late on basically any weekend night and Thursdays too, because the wayback room(s) large dance floor is not what you might expect, simply spacious. And if you are a lady and dressing like ladies do over the Halloween weekend, and your butt is indeed frozen off by the continuing wind advisory, even though you wanted to partake in the party at my suggested solution, BX Mexican in River Falls, there is a way to make it up, like the Irish did this year on St. Patrick’s Day. Make plans, between study days if you are a college student, for any of four consecutive nights on most weeks, to cut the rug.
Any then the commentary from “professionals” as a how to on this holiday. The late publisher on the weekly where I cut my teeth as a reporter/editor, always spelled Halloween with an appostrophe between the last two vowels, so totally old school and possibly easier on the non-consinents than All Hallows. And a local psychiatrist says this about describing the unusual behavior seen: You get a bunch of people in this profession together at a conventiion and after the speakers, go out and have a beer …

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